


Comfort

by Infie



Series: On The Road [6]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 01:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4686341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infie/pseuds/Infie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity and Oliver hear the news about Ray. </p><p>Spoilers, S3E23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

They spilled into the hotel room in a tangle of limbs and laughter. 

It had been almost a month on the road so far, and Oliver couldn’t remember, in his entire life, ever being so happy. _All the time_. It was wonderful, and a little terrifying. 

“Which bed do you want?” Felicity threw her bag on the stand beside the dresser and waved her hand at the two queen beds with a grin. 

“Whichever one has you in it,” he told her sincerely, stalking across the room. She laughed and dodged between the beds, but he caught her with one arm and tumbled her over onto the closest one. They knocked the minimal set of items of the table, scattering them across the floor. Oliver’s foot caught the edge of the remote, pressing the buttons. As they fell onto the bed, the television flickered on. 

Channel fifty-two, the news. 

“No!” Felicity lunged for the remote. “No television, no news for at least one month. That was the deal!” 

“I know.” Oliver leaned back and appreciated the view of Felicity half-off the bed, scrambling for the remote. She really did have the most beautiful legs. Reflexively he grabbed for her to keep her from falling off completely. 

“Aha!” She slithered the rest of the way off the bed but came up with the remote, spun and aimed it at the TV. 

_’... untimely death of Raymond Palmer, head of Palmer Industries. Mr Palmer, widely hailed as a technology genius, was at the Palmer Industries office in Starling City when the top two levels of the building blew up with him inside. The almost month-long investigation has now concluded, with the results indicating that the explosion was caused by a new, unstable technology that Mr. Palmer had been working on. In sports...’_

Oliver felt like he’d been punched in the stomach; like all the air had just been sucked out of the room. He sat bolt upright and looked at Felicity, who sat frozen with the remote still in the air. Her face was ashen, her eyes wide and unblinking. As he watched, her hand started to shake. 

“Felicity…” 

“No.” She set the remote down on the floor beside her with a frighteningly slow precision. “No, that can’t be right.” She shook her head, frowning in confusion. When she looked back up at him her eyes were stunned, quizzical. “That can’t be right, right?” 

He shook his head helplessly. 

Abruptly she jerked to her feet and headed for her duffle. Quickly she opened the zipper and pulled out her tablet, tapping her foot impatiently as it started. Connection to the hotel’s WIFI only took a moment, and he knew that it was true when she gasped and stepped back, her hand flying to her throat. She turned to face him, her face dead white. 

“He’s dead,” she whispered. “Since the night before we left.” 

Wordless, he opened his arms and she crawled into them. He arranged himself so that they were propped up on the pillows and just focussed on holding her close. She burrowed against him as tightly as she could, resting her head on his chest and squeezing him hard. After a moment he realized that she was breathing with him, that she was listening to the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. Her fingers dug into his side hard enough that he could feel the outline of her blunt fingernails. 

“I’m here,” he murmured and tightened his hold. “I’m so sorry, Felicity. I know you…” He swallowed and forced himself to say it, “loved him.” 

She didn’t say anything. 

“We can be in Starling in two days if we drive straight,” he offered, desperate for a response. 

She shook her head minutely. 

“Felicity…” 

“It’s too late,” she said quietly. “The funeral and memorial, everything happened weeks ago. There’s nothing to go back for.” 

He gave an unhappy little hum of agreement. 

“He was a good man.” She bit her lip. “He tried too hard _all the time_ , and he was really bad at reading the reactions people had to him. He treated everyone as equals; he wanted so badly to be part of the team, any team…” Her voice broke and he stroked a hand down her back, feeling his own eyes sting at the misery in her voice. “But he never really figured out how to fit in.” 

He had no idea what to say. He’d disliked Ray on sight, but that was because he’d taken one look at him and seen a threat. A threat to his company, a threat to his relationship with Felicity… and then he’d turned his back and all but forced them together. He didn’t really have any right to harbour a grudge against the man for taking advantage of the situation. And Ray had proven more than once that he had a good heart. 

He still didn’t like him, but he wasn’t glad that he was dead either. 

“He did so much for me. He saw my potential and he wanted me to grow into it. Ray never looked at me and saw a retail salesperson. He looked at me and saw what I was capable of. He saw a partner, not an employee.” 

Oliver nodded, bending his head to kiss her hair. “He loved you,” he said, though it hurt to get the words out. They’d come so close to a different ending, one that had Felicity cuddled in Ray’s arms, crying over _his_ death instead…. 

Felicity sat up and shook her head, wiping her cheeks with one shaking hand. “No, not really. Not _loved_ , loved.” She met Oliver’s confused look sincerely. “Ray loved Anna, his fiance, with all his heart. She died in the Mirakuru massacres. He never got over it.” She shook her head again. “He cared for me, he little-l loved me. Like I cared for him.” Her eyes were direct and uncompromising. “But not like I love you. Nothing like I love you.” 

His heart turned over in his chest, the way it did every time she said it. 

“And I feel horrible that he’s dead, because he was my friend and I am going to miss him so much, and I know I’m going to feel this way for a really long time, but when… All I can think about is Malcolm Merlyn holding that sword and telling us you were dead, and how much worse that was, and how _glad_ I am that you’re alive, Oliver…” 

He reached for her and crushed her close, both arms and one leg around her so she could feel him top to bottom. He buried his nose in her hair and felt her start to sob. “God, Felicity, I am _so sorry_...” 

“ _No_.” She poked him in the ribs hard enough to make him flinch but he didn’t let go. Her voice was muffled against his neck but the fierceness came through loud and clear. “You’re here, and you’re alive, and if listening to Malcolm Merlyn proclaim your death was what I had to go through to get here then I’ll deal with it.” 

He bit his lips to keep from apologizing again and just held her. “Do you want to go home? Please, tell me what I can do to help. Anything.” 

She shook her head again and he felt a damp trickle over his collarbone. Fuck. He hated being helpless more than anything else in the world. “Just stay with me, like this.” 

Oliver picked up the phone and dialled the front desk with one hand. “This is room 452,” he said when they answered. “We’re going to need the room for a week. Thank you.” He hung up and wrapped his arm back around her. “Done,” he whispered, “for as long as you want. Whatever you need.” 

“I need you.” He could feel her eyes close and they both took a deep breath. “I just… want to listen to your heartbeat for a while. I need to know you’re alive, with me.” 

“I’m here.” 

He wasn’t going anywhere.


End file.
